


Scare

by Jinmukang



Series: Whumptober 2020 [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and the Signal (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: "Take me instead", Concussions, Deaf Dick Grayson, Hostage Situations, Injury, No.9, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinmukang/pseuds/Jinmukang
Summary: And Dick had failed Duke. He brought Duke out, but he didn't prepare for an actual attack.Dick got Duke captured.By Scarecrow.It was all his fault.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas
Series: Whumptober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946413
Comments: 22
Kudos: 119
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Scare

**Author's Note:**

> promt nine! and a happier one to make up for the angst fest that was yesterday's prompt too :3
> 
> also, i promise im about to switch back into present tense in like, two more fics. it was fun to switch writing styles when i wrote these, but man present tense is really where my brain likes to sit.

"Well, look what the bat dragged in."

Dick resisted a wince as his back was practically stabbed with the barrel end of an assault rifle. He twisted his wrists behind his back, locked there by his own cuffs. Not for the first time, Dick felt a ping of hatred for Bruce's constant paranoia. Plans for everything, even themselves. Therefore: cuffs are batproof. 

And that wasn't all, Duke kneeled beside him in the exact same situation. On his knees, guns aimed point-blank, meaty hands on his shoulders to keep him down as none other than Jonathan Crane,  _ Scarecrow _ , in his full get-up approached his new hostages. 

This definitely won't be good. Dick didn't know how long he could last. Crane's knack for dramatics and monologues were ear- _ bleedingly _ boring on the best of days. Dick already had a headache thanks to the lucky shot one of Crane's children-of-the-pumpkin-patch-lackeys got on him with the back of their gun. Hey, sometimes even Nightwing accidentally got hit. He's human. 

Honestly, Dick wasn't upset about being caught. Hell, he wasn't even that worried to see Scarecrow walz towards them with his dramatic scythe dragging on the floor behind him. Not even the flashing red lights of the lab they were currently in and the intruder alarms blaring put him on edge. What sent an ice cold shard of worry straight into his chest cavity was that Duke was caught also because of Dick's initial mistake. 

Duke. The guy who was still in training. Who was just barely figuring out his meta abilities. Who could fight like a bat out of hell but who has  _ never _ faced Scarecrow. Duke probably didn't know what to expect with this encounter, and judging by the glances Dick could feel being shot his way by his newest brother, Duke was expecting Dick to come up with something more productive than twisting his hands in his own cuffs again. 

This was Dick's fault. He was the one who suggested Duke came with him to check out the labs built near the Fashion District. It's primary purpose was to research medicine for the brain. Things to help seizures, depression, etcetera. Which, of course, made it a prime possible target for Scarecrow whenever the villain managed to escape from Arkham. 

The thing was, these labs were already raided for it's chemicals the last time Crane escaped. Normally, the guy was a little smarter than to go to the same supply of chemicals for his fear toxin twice. Dick took Duke for this reason, because it was good to learn how Scarecrow worked before actually facing him. That, and it needed to be checked anyway. He didn't actually expect Crane to be here, let alone in full get up.

It must have been a trap. 

Well. Judging by the outcome of the circumstances, it most definitely was a trap. Crane was up to something. Something more than sending the mass population of Gotham into a fear crazed frenzy. 

Crane stopped in front of his two captives, flicking his scythe around his body with the smoothness of silk. Dick let his neck relax as the scythes blade went under his chin to lift his head. It was just a fear tactic. One that Dick wasn't falling for. Crane was using the outside of the blade where it was dulled. If he was using the inside, then Dick might have been a little on edge. 

Get it?

He stared right into the stitched eyeholes of Crane's hood. Clenched his fists behind his back. "What's up, Crane?" Dick kept his voice light and level; he even let a smile curve his lips as he spoke. The best thing you could do while dealing with Crane was remain calm and not show the slightest sign of fear. Hurt his ego. Make him sloppy. 

It didn't seem to immediately rub Crane the wrong way though. He didn't even tense. "Well, you see, I've seemed to have come across two little birdies with their little wings tied-" Ugh. Dick wanted to barf- "and now I have to decide what to do about them."

"Ah you know," Dick replied in a sing-song tone. "Could just leave us alone. Birds tend to take care of themselves."

"Hmm, I suppose." The scythe was removed from under Dick's chin, but Dick kept eye contact as Crane stepped away. "After all, everyone knows it's bad luck to keep two two birdies locked up together."

Dick really wished that Gotham's Rogues would quit it with the theatrical flair. It almost made Dick miss Blüdhaven where everything was straight to the point. The amount of monologues Dick had heard from spending the last two days alone visiting the manor could fill a novel. And at  _ least  _ no one in the ‘Haven called him a  _ bird.  _

"So I guess the only thing for you to do is to let us go." Dick sighed, like he was upset about it. Crane twitched and Dick couldn't help a confident smirk. "Unless you want the big bad bat to drag you back to Arkham so early into your escape. Your lackeys got lucky with us tonight, but do you really think you can take the entire clan with what you have now?" 

Crane remained silent for a moment, and Dick could practically sense Duke resisting twitching or saying anything. Which was good. Duke’s being smart. Letting the guy who's fought Crane for almost as long as Robin had existed do the talking. Dick knew how Scarecrow ticked. In the end, it was always about fear. If his victims weren’t afraid then he'd get bored. Sure, he'll also most likely use Fear Toxin, but it was obvious Crane was planning something. He normally resisted throwing around Fear Toxin willy nilly. If he had a plan, the toxin was put away until he really needed it. 

"Actually, little bird," Crane finally said, his voice deepening almost an octave. "I could have use of you. You see, I'm an expert at my craft, yet you bats always seem to  _ not _ be afraid. Even when the world is trembling in terror, you bats hold strong. I don't  _ understand _ it. I need to study this. Make a toxin that's impossible to resist."

"It's called an antitoxin," Dick scoffed. "No matter how many times you change the formula it's still always the base formula. Every hospital in Gotham had loads of the antitoxin."

Suddenly, Scarecrow was snarling, right up in Dick's face. Dick heard Duke swear under his breath, but Crane didn't seem to notice. He was too focused on staring through those threaded eye sockets right into Nightwing's milky lenses with narrowed, cold brown irises. 

"No," Crane hissed, "you bats have something different. You get scared, but never  _ afraid _ . I've seen you cry and scream on the ground, writhing in your own terror, but you always-  _ always _ stand back up. I'm tired of making formula after formula to guess what finally takes you down for good. I need a subject. I need a bat to test on instead of random people in the street."

Dick immediately felt himself tense, but he tried not to show it on his face. 

Okay. So Crane wants a human lab rat now. But not any human, a member of the very group of people he's never been able to truly defeat.

Okay. 

So this was definitely turning out badly. 

"Sorry, Jonathan, Sig and I are actually completely booked today. How bout next week? I think I can squeeze you in for, , hmm, let's say, next Tuesday?"

Scarecrow paused, tilted his head, then Dick knew he made a mistake. 

"Ah yes, the  _ Signal _ ." Crane turned towards the yellow clad hero and Dick was moving forward before he even registered that hands tightening on his shoulders, keeping him forced down to his knees as Crane approached Duke. "Gotham's newest little bat, only; this one likes the sun."

Dick watched as Duke squared his jaw and didn't say anything. Dick couldn't see his eyes through the helmet on his face, but he could imagine the unafraid glare Duke must be giving. 

"Hey," Dick called in an attempt to get the attention back onto himself, "we're not finished, Crane."

"Actually," Crane replied, his voice sounding excited and wistful, "I think we are."

Dick watched with a growing sense of horror and anxiety as Crane bent down and grabbed Duke by the chin, forcing Duke to bend his neck back at a painful looking angle. Duke grunted and attempted to tug his shoulders out from the grasps holding steadfast onto him. 

"Tell me, morning bird," Crane whispered just loud enough for Dick to just barely hear him. His voice was husky with excitement. "What do you fear most?"

"Crane! Leave him alone!" 

Dick went ignored as Scarecrow backed up, letting go of Duke's chin with a shove. He nodded and soon Dick was watching as Duke was hefted to his feet by the grunts behind him and held in place tightly. Dick struggled on his knees. 

"It's not Signal you're wanting, Crane, you know this!" Dick tugged on the restraining holds still on him. He tried to get his feet under him, but the men holding him down had more power over him at the moment. Dick snarled. "You've had a grudge against me since I was a kid! If there's anyone you want for this, it's me! Let him go! Take me instead!"

Dick could swear he just saw the jagged cut of a grin on Scarecrow's face widen. Sharpen. "Yes, Nightwing," Crane agreed, his tone sinister with a touch of silk. "I've always hated you. The Robin without fear. It would be a pleasure to get you finally choking on your own tears. You were always the light to his shadow. However," Crane stopped to grab Duke by the arm and drag him forward, "I'm finding myself more interested in how the day to his night will react to my toxins." 

Crane shoved Duke back to the lackeys and then shoved his scythe back under Dick's chin. "You'll have to be patient. Don't worry, whatever I create with him will be my masterpiece, and you will get a taste of it soon enough. 

Dick snarled, his gut churning at the thought of Duke being tortured for who knew how long into the future. He tried to find his feet again, throwing his body back to unbalance the holds on him and get away from the scythe both at the same time. 

This time, Dick was lucky. He managed to knock the men off him and climb to his feet. However, it was all for naught when one of the lackeys did the smart thing and hit him at the back of his skull with the butt of their gun. 

Dick saw stars, and maybe his superhero name being shouted, but all he could grasp onto was that he was on the ground now, desperately trying to get a grasp back on reality as his head screamed in pain at him. 

He just managed to focus on a blur of yellow being dragged off, but that focus only lasted a second before another blast of pain erupted on the side of his head, and he knew no more. 

-o-o-o-o-

The feeling of gravity rolled, shooting Dick from unconsciousness straight into awareness as he was flipped from his stomach onto his back. He groaned, a migraine pounding away. The side of his head felt warm and wet. He had to blink a few times to reboot his brain and remember how he got here and why he was in so much pain. 

And then, he remembered. 

He jolted, shooting up to sit up but he was immediately met with resistance via Tim's hands grabbing onto his arms. The world swirled around him—looking similar to an old album cover from the 70s. Dick shot his arms up regardless of the dizziness attacking every one of his senses and wrapped his grasp around the front of Tim's suit. 

"Signal-" Dick wheezed, tried to explain, but Tim just frowned and then began to shove Dick back to the ground, keeping his grasp on Dick's arm to pin him there. Tim was shockingly strong. Or maybe… Dick was shockingly weak. 

Dick shook his head, but it sent the 70s into the 60s and his thoughts almost slipped away like fine sand. Duke. He had to focus on Duke. He was in trouble. Had Scarecrow already tested out his first drug? Was Duke already reliving his darkest nightmares? Dick didn't know everything about Duke, but he did know that in the short time he's been a part of the family business that he's already seen so much shit. The Joker and what he did to his parents being at the top of the list. 

Dick remembered the first time the fear toxin made him relive his own parents' demise. He couldn't stop shaking for days. 

This was Dick's fault. He was supposed to keep track of Duke. Show him the in's and out's of dealing with Scarecrow from the early stages, getting him prepared for when Crane eventually decided to reign his terror across the streets. That was the advantage the family wanted to give Duke. Make it so none of the future battles with Gotham's main gallery felt like it was too much. When you're new, big names could be confidence rattling. 

And Dick had failed Duke. He brought Duke out. Dick didn't prepare for an actual attack.

Dick got Duke captured. 

By  _ Scarecrow _ . 

It was all his fault. 

Dick had to find him. Save him. He had to fix this. So he tightened his hands in Red Robin's suit and tried to sit up again. "Signal-" Dick tried again, but Tim didn't listen. He just shook his head and opened his mouth. Said something. Dick realized he couldn't hear. Everything sounded like the static on an empty radio channel. His own voice rumbled in his chest, vibrated inside his skull, but he couldn't pick apart anything else. And while the threat of deafness thanks to what was definitely a concussion scared the shit out of him, he couldn't just sit here and let Tim shove him back down to do nothing while Duke was most certainly in  _ danger _ . 

Dick forced strength he probably didn't have and attempted to shove Tim off from him. Somehow, against all odds, it worked. However, just moving his arms like that caused a spike of exhaustion to spear into his gut and it took every ounce of willpower in his body to work himself to his feet. 

He stumbled once he was standing. Everything was spinning. His lack of hearing made his sense of balance dim. It was suddenly like he was a passenger in his own body. He knew he wanted to take a step forward, but he wasn't sure he did. His stomach rolled and he closed his eyes to catch his breath, but when he opened his eyes again he was laying back down face up, hands on his chest and legs straddling his hips. Pinning him down. 

Dick felt sick. 

He... He had to save Duke. He had to get whoever was on top of him  _ off _ . 

He twitched and his eyes closed again, only this time it was against his will. Something stinging stroke across his cheek, but everything was far away and he couldn't find his hands. 

He fell into darkness again. 

-o-o-o-o-

He woke up feeling similar to how Buster from  _ Mythbusters _ looked. His head felt muffled. Far away. So much so that it took a minute for the migraine to kick in once he cracked his eyes open. 

The lights were dim, thank heavens, so it only took a moment for Dick's eyes to adjust. He easily recognized the medbay of the Batcave, having woken up here too many times to confidently number. He reached up to his head and felt bandages wrapped tightly around his skull. Then, he blinked and realized there was a presence besides him. It took him a minute for his eyes to travel over to the side, but when he did his eyebrows rose and he went completely still. 

Duke was there. In pajamas, sitting on a plastic folding chair off to the side of Dick's bed. Not a scratch on him.

Duke, probably having sensed Dick as well, looked up from his phone towards where Dick laid. A smile broke out on his face. 

Duke started speaking, but Dick couldn't hear him. Not that Dick cared at the moment. He was too happy seeing Duke looking completely fine. Exactly as he should be. It was like a dream. Could this be a dream? Dick hoped not.

Duke finishes speaking, tilting his head and brows scrunching up. Dick realized that he must have been asked a question, but because he was too busy reeling over how this all seemed so impossible—because he could have  _ sworn _ Duke was captured—to read his lips. Dick cleared his throat, thankful that he could still at least hear his own voice, and gave a shaky smile.

"Cn't hear ya," he muttered, his voice too scratchy and his energy too low to do much more than that. Duke's eyes widened and he looked to the side to definitely swear. Dick won't tell Alfred though. It's not like he heard it. 

Duke looked lost with himself for a moment, bringing his hands up to his chest beginning to sign what he wanted to say letter by letter. Duke's still learning sign. Cass was teaching him and he was learning quickly. He was still a beginner though and didn't know how to say much more than basic conversation. Dick felt a laugh escape his throat, sending a spike of pain into his head. 

"E-S-C-A-P-E" Duke signed, carefully shaping every letter with concentration over his facial features. He began to start singing something more, but then he stopped mid "N" and looked over to the entrance of the bay, relief melting the hard edges of his face. Dick turned to look af well and what he saw didn't really surprise him. 

Bruce, still garbed in his suit, but his cowl and cape were absent. He looked tired. Frown pulled down a little more than usual. The bags under his eyes a little more vibrant. Bruce analyzed the room for a brief moment, but a smidge of life seemed to return to his face when his gaze landed on Duke and Dick. His lips twitched. They didn't become a smile, but it was almost one. Dick had learned to live with Bruce's almosts. 

Duke opened his mouth and, judging by the way that smidge of relief and happiness on his face rapidly declined, Dick could guess what was said. Bruce expected Dick's hearing to be back by now. Dick tried not to let that clench something in his gut. 

Bruce walked forward, his footsteps soundless, before he settled besides Dick's beside and snapped his fingers next to Dick's ear.

Dick tried to listen. He really did. It just… wasn't there. He took a calming breath, released it, then shook his head. 

Now Bruce was full on frowning, and Dick almost expected Bruce to turn tail and retreat, maybe to call Leslie or research hearing loss caused by concussion. Instead, he was shocked to find that Bruce simply turned to pull another chair to his bedside, his hands already delicately placed in front of his chest. 

_ Can you hear anything? _

Dick shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek. 

_ Should not be permanent. Leslie said to call her if it takes longer than a day to start returning. _

Dick nodded. Took another breath. He could feel it lingering behind his eyes, the fear of never being able to hear ever again. It made him want to throw something, but Duke was here, and Dick couldn't focus on himself right now. He had to know what happened after his head was smashed in. Thankfully, Bruce seemed to know him well enough to expect that of Dick. That to avoid breaking down he needed to worry about someone else. 

_ Escaped on his own. Called the family to find you. _

Ah. So in the end, it was Dick who needed rescuing. Duke handled himself. Which, somewhere at the back of Dick's mind he knew Duke was a skilled fighter. He was a quick learner. Versatile. Give him a situation and he'd work it to his advantage. And maybe Dick was so worried because even though Duke was nowhere near the youngest of the family, he was still the baby of it. He'd lost his parents so recently. He was the newest to the fold. His trauma was still ripe. And maybe it was the big brother in Dick, but he didn’t want to fail Duke like he's failed all the others. Jason died because he wasn't there. Tim felt abandoned because Dick thought he was ready to let go of something he was still attached to. Damian died after Dick failed to defeat his killer. He never noticed Cassandra and her pain when she was with the League. 

He didn’t want to be the cause of something so… so horrible in Duke's life. He didn’t want to look back on Duke and see regret and hindsight. 

That almost happened tonight. 

But he escaped. He handled it. Crane didn't torture anyone tonight. 

Duke was okay.

He sighed and sank into the cushions of the cot and smiled when Bruce lifted a hand and wrapped it around his knee, squeezing slightly in reassurance. Dick shot one last glance at Duke and smiled. Duke beamed back, albeit a bit apprehensively. Dick didn't take the hesitation to be completely open with the family personally. Duke was still new. Soon enough, they'd all get used to each other. 

_ Get some rest, _ Bruce signed and Dick hummed. Yeah, he felt tired all over again. Must be the head injury. Maybe the relief that everything had worked out at the expense of his hearing. 

And Bruce said Leslie predicted it shouldn't be permanent. Within a few days, it would be like nothing happened. They'd continue to hunt Crane, only next time he'd be the one cuffed and dragged away. His vacation from Arkham wouldn’t last long, Dick would personally attest to that. 

He'd do anything to make sure his family stayed safe during these stressful next few weeks that always follow an Arkham breakout. Everyone would return home safe, every single night. Dick will make sure of it. Hearing or not. 

No one will be hurting Duke. Or any of his family. Not while Dick Grayson had a say in it. 

**Author's Note:**

> spare a comment? please. im starving.


End file.
